kICK tHE bUCKET
by T a C o C a T
Summary: Looking down on her from heaven, he decided he definitely didn't like being dead. So when given a second chance at life, he jumps at it. The catch? Life for a life. He must kill Uchiha Madara within a two month time period. Sure, No problem! sASUsAKU
1. Bite me!

For someone who had spent his entire life devoted to one purpose, after losing everything and sacrificing everything else, after years of struggling and chasing after things that were always just barely out of his desperate grasp – to die of something completely unrelated before he had even managed to accomplish it seemed entirely _pathetic. _And to die the way he did was a comical irony.

Maybe he should have been watching where he walked, but he was too immersed in trying to find out which side of the map was up and which side was down to take notice of the coiled and sleeping animal that lay in his path. And naturally, when stepped on, a snake retaliates. Even ones that are supposed to be indentured servants. As he felt the fangs sink into his ankle and the venom release, he froze, rooted to the spot with wide, dumbfounded eyes. It took a moment or two to render, and when it did, his mind was sent into a frenzied panic. The snake had bit him. The poison was fatal.

"Sssorry, Ssssasssuke." It said apologetically, dragging out the 's' in a low hiss. "Refleckssss, you know? Maybe you better watchhh where you walk necksssss time." And then it slithered off and vanished, unwilling to stick around to watch the outcome of its possibly terminal mistake. The map fluttered out of his hand and to the ground below. The snake had bit him. Bit _him. Bit _him. How was that even possible? They were supposed to be loyal, even if only to the extent that he feared them into it. He was their master. They did not dare _bite him_!

As he tried to gather his horrified thoughts, a powerful one struck him. He had to do something, otherwise, well. Snake venom was poisonous, after all. But what to do, what to do? The immediate answer dominated his mind. _It has to be sucked out, of course. _But by who? _By me, of course. _But he pursed his lips doubtfully. He couldn't quite recall a time where someone had removed the poison from their own veins and saved their own life, it was usually a nearby companion. And unfortunately, he happened to lack those at the very moment. Besides, he was not quite flexible enough to bring his ankle up to his mouth.

He briefly considered a clone, but quickly tossed the notion out of his mind. People _don't _suck poison out of themselves, and that was that. So instead he raked through his mind hopefully, reviewing briefly over all the basic medical care they had taught him at the academy or that he had picked up in his many years of experience. But all he could come up with was pointless anatomy facts, or the ridiculously long names of rare diseases – nothing that would help him in his current situation. What a waste of his time, learning all of that completely useless junk!

An antidote, then! _Wait, we don't have any of those. _Well, why not? He worked with deathly poisonous snakes every single bloody day, and he didn't have anything to counteract the effects of their dangerous bite? _Why the hell not?? _Because they weren't supposed to bite, that's why not. He had figured that they would never dare bite him, _the_ Uchiha Sasuke!

He stood, frantically looking about for anything, grasping inside of his bag, fumbling for things on the ground. Something, anything to help him stop or slow what was inevitably to come. He was so busy trying to stop his death from coming that he did not pause and take the time to fear it or mourn about how much he wished it not to come, not yet, not when he hadn't even... He did not take the time to reflect back or wonder with disdain what would become of him. He didn't even realize it until it was too late.

This was it. This was his end.

The poison spread, and he was dead within minutes.

--

"His scent is getting stronger." Pakkun said, pointing his nose upwards and taking another few sniffs to confirm. "He isn't on the move any longer. He's stopped for some reason. There's something odd about the smell, though." The muzzle around his whiskers wrinkled as he drew his head back with something that looked to be repulse. "Its almost as though... Well, never mind."

Naruto clenched his fists at his side, and Sakura could see the tendons that strained against the tanned skin. His nostrils flared in excitement. She couldn't deny that her pulse too, had started racing, but she kept her anxiousness hidden better than her blond teammate had managed, which took an enormous amount of effort on her part. She would have jumped and cried out in elation if it were not her desire to remain professional and calm. They were in the middle of a dangerous mission. She could not allow herself to let her feelings get the better of her and control her behavior, or they'd never catch him. Sneaking up on Sasuke was near impossible, and would require only the utmost stealth and skill.

"Lead on." Kakashi instructed, dismissing him with a slight sweep of the hand. The dog's short legs carried him easily from tree to tree as he pressed forwards, trailing after the distinct smell of the Uchiha. The team had been composed of seven people, Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi in the front – and Sai, Yamato, Hinata and Shikamaru following closely behind as backup. A carefully selected handful of people chosen for what they was sure would be the final Sasuke retrieval mission. This time, they were determined to prevent him from evading them yet again.

Summer was fading into fall, and the leaves on the trees were reddening. The wind began to grow sharper and sting coldly against their faces, and the sky grew cloudier and grayer. Dead and dying branches and twigs crackled and snapped beneath their quickly moving feet as they flew through the forest in pursuit. The orange sun was sinking beneath the distant line of the horizon, and stared directly into their eyes. Sakura breathed in, trying to clear her erratic thoughts. Somewhere beyond those trees he was waiting.

She was a woman, now – twenty one years of age. And even though she had been deprived of his company for long years, he had made such an impact on her that she simply could not forget and could not relent until she was satisfied in knowing that he was safe and sound in Konoha. It had been so long since she had so much as looked upon his blindingly perfect face, heard the deafening sound of his husky voice, basked in the glory of his presence. She was thrilled at the idea of being able to do so once again.

Love him? Yes, she loved him. She had loved him from the moment that she laid eyes on him, and felt it grow from kindled adoration and innocent affection to an overpowering ache that throbbed excruciatingly and consumed her entire body every time she so much as thought his name. Even if it was starting to tear her apart, slowly from the inside out, she would not stop. She had no control over it, and even if she had, she wouldn't want to. She was proud to love him. She wanted to scream it on the rooftops: "I love Uchiha Sasuke!"

"Just through this clearing, now." Pakkun whispered, snapping her out of her daze. He sat on a branch and tensed noticeably. Kakashi followed his suit and paused, holding out a hand and indicating for them to stop. She landed silently on the forest floor below and waited impatiently, holding her breath. But Naruto could no longer contain himself, he shook and trembled, lurching forwards.

"Wait!" Kakashi called, but Naruto paid him no mind and burst unrestrictedly through the trees. "There's something not quite right...!" This was confirmed when the conspicuous orange blob that was Naruto came to an abrupt halt, and even though his face was turned, by his posture she could read his expression. He remained perfectly still in a reverent shock.

Daringly, her body weighed heavily with dread, she stepped forwards apprehensively to see what had caused Naruto to fall into such a fearsome state. Her heart stopped. Her breath was stolen right out of her chest. But only if the sight had really killed her on the spot, and she wasn't forced to let the horrid image imprint itself into her memory forever. There lay the love of her life, first face on the ground, immobile.

While Naruto remained frozen, she stepped forwards precariously, her mind wiped blank and void of anything but numbing shock, and came to his side. She would not reach downwards to feel for a pulse, and she would not look at his chest to check for breathing. She did not want to confirm what she feared more wholesomely than anything else before. The terror gripped her like a great vice, but its hold protected her from the truth that she did not want to admit to herself. "Sasuke?" Her voice came out quietly and wavered like her faith. "What are you doing...?"

There came no reply.

She wasn't even aware that Kakashi was approaching until he knelt at the inanimate boy's side, pressing two fingers against the curve of his exposed neck. He held them there for what seemed like both an eternity and the blink of an eye. It was unearthly silent, so quiet that she could hear Kakashi's restrained gasp. "My god..." He muttered under his breath, shaking head defiantly. "He's... dead."

No. That couldn't be. It wasn't true. She refused to believe it, even though the evidence had been spoken out loud and lay rigid and cold at her feet. Sasuke couldn't die. Not now, not after all they had both been through. He looked fine, with the exception of the ghostly pale skin and blue tint on his agape lips. He looked perfectly _fine_! He was not bathed in blood, there were no sharp, pointy objects sticking out of his body – so therefore he was quite clearly NOT dead. If the indestructible Uchiha actually did lose his life, it would be in a valiant battle with a formidable enemy. Not just suddenly and out of nowhere, he would not just up and die without any good excuse!

She stared at the motionless body of the man that she was hopelessly in love with a little longer, and then let out a long, agonized scream as reality set in.

She could briefly remember the sounds of Naruto's sobbing, the wild questioning of the remainder of the team as the stumbled across the tragic scene, and the cracking voice of a deeply remorseful Tsunade as she demanded that Sakura calm down before jabbing a sedative inside of her neck.

When she woke up she was hospitalized with nurses tending to her at her bedside. Everything rushed by in a blur like a world that she was not a part of, and she felt isolated and cold. How was it that they continued to move and breath and exist when he did not? She felt as thought he world should have stopped. It seemed entirely unfair that it continued to spin in merciless disregard of what had happened. What had happened? Why was she sitting upright in a bed, her mind in a state of nulled, eerie silence? What had caused the empty feeling in her chest, as though she had lost a part of herself?

Oh, that's right. Death. His death. How unfathomable the concept seemed, even now when she had seen it with her own to eyes. Even though deep down inside of her she knew the heartbreaking truth, her rebellious mind refused to accept it as fact. To her it seemed more possible that any moment he would hop up and laugh until there were tears in his eyes, screaming: "Gotcha!" So instead she buried it deep inside of herself, because she wasn't ready to swallow his undeniable fate just yet. So she could hold onto him, just for a little while longer.

"Sakura?" Tsunade's voice shook her from her mindless stupor. Sakura looked up to meet the eyes of her former mentor, those amber eyes that were so full to the brim with shameless pity that Sakura could not help but feel resentful. She did not need to be tempted towards guilt for placing such an expression on Tsunade's face. The Hokage stood in the door frame, a clip board in one hand and the other resting at her side. "How are you... feeling?"

She sat in silence until she reminded herself that a question requires an answer. "I'm not feeling anything." She replied truthfully. Nothing. She felt as blank as an clean canvas. "Where's Naruto? Is Naruto alright?" She remembered her blond companion and decided to worry about him, something, anything to fill the senselessness. Anything to distract her temporarily, before their conversation progressed into a different topic, one that she was not quite ready for yet.

Tsunade frowned, the corner of her lips turning down thoughtfully, and paused before replying. "He was in hysterics." She said finally. "Hinata managed to calm him down, finally. She's with him now." Sakura nodded dully, mouthing an 'oh' to express her understanding. Tsunade hesitated, and Sakura could tell that she intended to speak further, and she knew what about. There was no doubt that neither of them wanted to speak of it, but it had to be done. "We've brought the body back." Tsunade murmured. "Do you want to take part in the autopsy?"

"No." She replied. "I don't."

And that was that.

--

There was a breathtaking impact as his mother bowled into him, grasping him tightly against her chest and planting kisses all across his perplexed face. "Oh, dear. You poor thing. So young! You're still so young." She cried through her unabashed displays of enthusiastic affection. But he didn't seem to mind so much, because he was still much too startled to care.

"M-mom?" He croaked as she released him, and he got his first glance at his surroundings. Familiar faces. There, and there, and everywhere. Heads were turned towards him, wearing a similar expression of mild interest as they viewed the newcomer with recognition flitting in their eyes. The unmistakable faces that he had seen daily looking up at Hokage mountain, old relatives, and was that the sound five playing _cards_? At last his gaze rested upon the painfully nostalgic image of his father. "...Dad?"

The thin line that was his father's mouth curled into a slight, but sad smile. Sasuke felt his stomach churn uneasily as the truth sunk into his mind. "I'm...dead?" He whispered, and his eyes darted towards his mother for confirmation. She nodded slowly, reaching up to put a tender hand against his cheek comfortingly. "But I can't be dead. I'm not finished yet. I still have to... I still have to... I still haven't killed him, and I don't have any children!"

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Uchiha Mikoto said, bringing her son into a gentle embrace. "But there's no use crying over spilled milk, right?"

"Spilled milt? I'm _dead_!" He exclaimed, the sound of his voice muffled by his mother's shoulder. She was a good head shorter than he was, and he was bent over awkwardly when he rested his chin reluctantly against the crook of her neck. He was disgruntled by the discovery of his death, but it did not cut off his joy at seeing her again. She ran her fingers through the spikes of dark hair on his head. Even though he was a full grown man who had devoted his life to murder – he could not deny that he still loved his mother.

"It gets better, honestly it does." She promised. "Oh, my boy. I'm so happy to see you again!" She squeezed him and he returned her embrace. "Even if it's not under the best circumstances." Being held by her like this, it reminded him of when he was younger so powerfully that he felt like a child again, desperately seeking comfort in the arms of his mother. He was put to ease so thoroughly that he seemed to forget about the nearby onlookers, until...

There came the sound of a snort of laughter and a chuckle, followed by a teasing call of: "Mommas boy!"

He pulled away instantly, his face flushed, prepared to slaughter whoever had tossed in the comment. (He didn't care if they were already dead, he was going to slaughter them anyway. Doubly dead!) And upon discovering who had, he found he just... couldn't. His mouth hung open furiously for a while longer, before he snapped it shut. "Minato-san, please!" Mikoto gasped embarrassedly.

Despite his obvious personality flaws, Sasuke could not help but feel nothing but respect towards the Yondaime Hokage.

There was something immediately and undoubtedly familiar about that cheeky smile and those ridiculous spikes of canary-yellow hair, but Sasuke didn't make the connection. He stared silently as the tall and impressive man walked forwards and put a friendly hand on his mother's shoulder. "Sorry, Mikoto." He laughed breezily. "You know me, I'm only joking."

His eyes met Sasuke's, and the young Uchiha was rooted to the spot. Those eyes, so full of laughter and mirth, still managed to mirror an incomprehensible maturity and intellect. They commanded awe. He turned towards Sasuke, his grin fading into a knowing smirk. "So, this is the the man up close whose been stirring up so much trouble in my village--,"

"_Your _village?" The first Hokage repeated incredulously. Namikaze Minato ignored him and continued.

"Well, Uchiha Sasuke, as the unofficial welcoming committee I'd like to welcome you into the afterlife. Hope you enjoy your stay!" And he threw his head back and howled in laughter, as if this was something overly hilarious.


	2. Peeping Toms

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm working, of course." She replied, as if there was nothing the matter with it, trying desperately to pretend that it truly was the case. Oh, how she wished that there were nothing the matter with her being at work today, how she wished that it would not catch Tsunade's attention, how she wished that he could fool herself into believing that nothing had happened. She scribbled notes on her clipboard, intentionally avoiding the gaze of her mentor, who stood in front of her with an expression that Sakura was determined not to take a peek at.

"I thought I told you to take some time off of work." She was _angry. _Of course she was angry, her demands had been deliberately disobeyed. But there was something else in her tone, an unmasked fear fearfulness and concern, that when Sakura finally relented to meet the eyes of the Hokage, reflected in her eyes. A lump formed in her throat. A heavy, aching lump that threatened to turn into something else. Tears. Screams.

Why couldn't they know to leave her alone? Sakura was going to deal with it in her own way, the least painful way. She was going to bury the fact under piles of self induced ignorance, and blissfully disregard it. Why couldn't they let her keep her peace? Why must they insist on pushing her into the horrible reality, the agony that she had been trying to avoid? She wasn't ready yet. She wanted to immerse herself in the truth slowly, gently. Peel away the band aid intermittently. And in order to do so, she needed a temporary distraction – something to indulge in that could keep her wandering mind away from the facts. Work was the perfect diversion.

"These patients aren't going to heal themselves. They need me here. The hospital is already short on workers, with the number of medical nins that have been dispatched to supply their skill on missions." She replied casually, and it surprised her how easily and fluidly that the words came to her tongue, and how collectively she could speak. On the inside, her heart was pounding. Her stomach churned. She prayed silently, _leave me alone. Leave me to cope on my own. _

Her former mentor stood and gaped in silence, before her expression softened into one of worry, and she reached out to put a tender hand to Sakura's shoulder. She brushed it away briskly, but not coldly. "Sakura..." Tsunade spoke, her voice quiet and precarious, careful not to provoke the misery that she both knew Sakura should have been feeling, for her own mental health. She needed to grieve. Grieve, and be done with it. "You look like you haven't slept since we brought you back. You need some time to let it sit. I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. I'm fine." She lied, although with the way she said it, and how she felt at the time – it really didn't feel like lying. For a moment, she could honestly and genuinely believe that she _was _fine. "I knew that there was a risk of having comrades die when I graduated from the academy and decided to become a ninja. I knew that this would eventually happen. You don't need to worry about me, because I'm _fine._"

But Sasuke was different, Tsunade wanted to say. She knew perfectly well that neither he, or Naruto, were merely _comrades _to Sakura. They had formed bonds much more deep and sacred, and she loved them both unconditionally. But Sasuke, what she felt towards Sasuke, it had been a different kind of love. Tsunade had watched it grow from affection and devotion to hopeless obsession. He was her sun, what her life revolved around. And after losing such an important piece of herself, Sakura was most certainly not _fine._

"Do you even care to know how he died?" Tsunade asked, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. Sakura ignored her, and she ignored the sharp jab in her chest, like a spear through the heart. She just continued to flip through papers, her eyes flickering across the page but not really reading, not really seeing. "Are you even aware that he's dead, Sakura?"

"Of course I'm aware. I saw him, didn't I? I was right there, wasn't I?" _Leave me alone. _She begged inside of her head, an insistent, powerful plea. One that she would not voice out loud, for the sake of maintaining her facade. _Please, just leave me alone. Are you trying to be intentionally cruel? Pour salt on my wounds? I'm not ready yet. I'm not ready for this yet. Leave me alone. _

"No, I don't think you are." She had implanted a deadly seed inside of herself. She kept the the truth locked up inside, where it would rot and turn into dormant suffering, festering within her and winding its way through her body. And then when she finally decided to let it free, it would consume her. It would destroy her. She had to let it run its course now before it ruined her life. She could not avoid his death forever, and when she couldn't any longer, it would hurt more fiercely. "Look me in the eye, Sakura, and tell me he's dead. Say: 'Sasuke is dead.'"

Sakura turned to her, expression blank. "Sasuke is--"

And then there came nothing. She could not say that word, she could not finish that sentence. To say it, even if it were only to put an end to Tsunade's persistence, would be admitting it. And she just _wasn't ready. _The words would not come, even if she bid them to.

"Hemotoxin." Tsunade said. "Snake venom. He was bitten."

... She might have stood in a stunned and solemn silence, her mind full to the brim with disbelief and her heart aching with utter dismay. She might have mourned for him, dying so young, with so much unaccomplished, of something so unprecedented. But she did not, she would not, not yet. A time would come for that later, after her gradual acceptance, and when it did, it would not be agonizing or disdainful. She would look back on his memory fondly and respectfully.

"I've got work to do." She said in an undisturbed monotone. "If you'd excuse me." And she turned and walked down the hallway, not daring to look back and face the disappointed, empathetic eyes of Tsunade. Tsunade watched her, and felt a pit form in her stomach. One that warned of imminent disaster, and urged her to act. But there was nothing she could do to sway the heart of the young, stubborn medical nin who would undoubtedly be her eventual successor. And besides, she did not wish that sort of pain on anyone. So she could do little else besides hope and wait, that in the end, Sakura would understand.

Work came easily and fluently for Sakura after that, the hours of her shift ran together, packed with countless patients and so much writing that she was giving herself wrist cramps. The people she worked with regarded her cautiously, like she was something fragile and on the edge of breaking. They avoided her for the most part, only consulting her when was necessary, and carefully dodged around anything that might lead to _that_ topic. Sakura was content to be left alone and pretend that she saw nothing amiss and neither did they, engrossing herself with her work, letting it consume her until she was numb.

Work was the only thing that mattered, now.

--

Perhaps, the thing that tortured him most, tied in with the now unattainable goal of clan rebuilding, was the fact that he was _still _a virgin. How awful. Doomed to an eternity never knowing what it felt like to be truly accomplished.

"He's spending an awful lot of time looking down there," Uchiha Mikoto said, looking up at her son, who lay a little ways off, flat on his stomach, watching Konoha wistfully through the transparent ground beneath him. He was propped up on his elbows, the heels of his palms pressed against his cheekbones, lips pulled downwards in a miserable frown. It tugged ferociously at her heart strings. "It's not healthy."

"If you're concerned," her husband replied, not lifting his eyes as he turned the page of the book he was reading. (Well, they had to find SOME way of entertaining themselves, after all. To be bored for the rest of eternity _would _be hell, and seeing as they most certainly _weren't _in hell, well, you get the idea.) "Go talk to him." He finished.

It had taken him a while for him to settle, but he still did quite easier with the comforting presence of his mother than he would have otherwise. It took a while to be used to the feel of being weightless, of looking downwards into a bird's eye view of the world and not expecting to fall, of never being hungry, never being tired, never feeling pain. Not the physical sorts, at least. Inside he ached with all of his being to be alive again, to have the opportunities that had been stripped from him reinstated, to be a part of what happened beneath his feet. And knowing that he couldn't, and he would never be able to have what he desired above all, caused him to overflow with frustration.

After being dragged around to greet every figure of his distant past, his mother had intervened, putting a hand to Yondaime's shoulder as she spoke. "I think that's enough for right now." She had said gently, giving Sasuke a sympathetic smile. "We have nothing but time on our hands, and he needs a while to... _adjust._" So at his mother's request, they had left him in piece to adapt to his knew, unfamiliar surroundings. And he had been staring at them, but more specifically at _her –_ ever since.

He would not deny that a major factor was how he had reacted to seeing her again. He might not have been impacted so strongly if he had not had the image of her twelve-year-old self engraved in his mind, and foolishly, for some reason unbeknown to him, expected her to be the same way. But when he saw her for the first time again, he might not have recognized her, if it weren't so undeniable that it was, in fact, his former teammate. If it had not been for the pink hair, and the green eyes, and the similar attire – he would not have known he was looking at Sakura. She had changed. No, changed was not a strong enough word. She had _transformed. _From a mindlessly doting girl into a strong, beautiful, and independent woman. Emphasis on STRONG.

He had watched her dust a boulder with her bare hands, and that was enough to make him admit, even if only to himself, that she was no longer something he could easily dismiss. Not when considering his enemies, and not when considering his friends. But, of course, the latter had always been that way. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he had broken all the bonds, he only found himself more tangled in them. He was always more attached to her than he put on to be believed, and he had thought of her as no less than a part of his indirect family. Even though she was annoying, and at times a nuisance, she had her good points, too. Sometimes, he had to turn away to hide the smirk on his face when she beat on Naruto.

Until he saw her _again. _And then his mind went spinning with thoughts that he had no control over. There was no denying that she was attractive, even to him, and that she was talented. And it was then, that he decided, when he returned to Konoha, she would make a suitable mother for his children.

But no, the real reason that he watched her so intently as she went about her day was because she looked like she really didn't _care._He had expected her to be miserable. Some sick, twisted part of him _hoped _she would be. Naruto had cried more than she had. Kakashi had cried more than she had! (That hasty swipe at his visible eye hadn't gone unnoticed by his sharp vision, no, it most certainly hadn't!) She hadn't cried at all. She had not shed a single tear for his sake. And dammit, it hurt!

It hurt to think that she was completely and totally indifferent to his death, and that she no longer had room for even a fraction of him in her heart.

It was dark when she walked home, leaving the hospital and finishing a long day of work. The streets of Konoha were abandoned, desolate. She walked quickly, not allowing for distraction, towards her home. He clenched his hand. _Why? _He thought. _She said... I thought that she...Goddammit, why doesn't she love me any more? _If she loved him, she would have been upset. _Why? _If she cared for him at all, she would have been upset. _WHY? _

It was then that he noticed the presence of his mother, looming over him. "Sweetheart, what are you looking at?" She asked softly, pityingly, as she bent downwards and caught sight of Sakura entering her house, slipping off her shoes, wandering into the kitchen to prepare herself a late dinner. His mother remained still, silent, her expression unidentifiable, before it crumpled into a look of sheer agony. Not for herself, but she felt it for her son. Because she wished he could take his pain away. "Oh." She said. "Oh. You're in love with that girl, aren't you?"

"Yes." He replied bitterly, truthfully. "But what does it matter? What does it matter, huh? I'm _dead._"

--

She did not want to visit Naruto, but even if it seemed cruel, it would not change the fact. She did not want to see him so heartbroken again, so distraught, so mournful – because he had a tendency to be contagious, and she was _still _not in the mood to have her soul ripped into shreds in the most slow, agonizing way imaginable – if you can understand. But of course, someday, she would be ready for it eventually. It _was _only_temporary _denial, of course. But she felt obligated to see him anyway, as a friend, so she did.

She did not find him in a better condition that she had expected. From what he had heard, he spent most of his time lately crying into Hinata's chest. And when she wandered into his apartment, he was an immobile lump wrapped up beneath layers of blanket, only the tips of his sun-kissed spikes protruding from beneath the covers. She walked over to him and put a hand to his head gently, testing to see if he was awake. He stirred, rolling over and turning to face her. His eyes, normally so full of life and energy, were dull and flat. "Hey." She said. And she could not think of anything else to say.

Words did not need to be spoken to come to an understanding between them. He could tell, just by looking into her eyes, what she kept on the inside was what he kept out. He could tell that she didn't want to talk about it, and she could tell that he did. He wrestled with the blanket until he had freed his arms, and wrapped them around her, pulling her into an embrace. He finally braved to brake the silence, whispering as to not disturb it too entirely. "That bastard." He said. "He left us again."

She could feel her throat tighten and her heart ache. She tried not to much to think of the meaning of his words, not to let them settle inside her mind, to keep them air born until the time was right. He expected no response from her, and continued. "It's not fair." He said. "We've been chasing him for so long. We've been working so hard. And this time, he went somewhere where we couldn't follow after him. Was it all a waste? Was it all for nothing? Please, tell me that I did not just waste the past nine years of my life on someone who up and died on me." His voice cracked with a sob, and his grip on her tightened.

She said nothing. "It's just so fucking _unfair._" He continued. "That poor bastard! He wasn't ready to die yet! We weren't ready for him to die yet! Goddammit, I feel as sorry for him as I do for myself. It's not fair!"

She said nothing.

The funeral was small and private. Even though it had become common knowledge in the village that Uchiha Sasuke was dead, only a select few of those closer to him were permitted to attend, for flood control. Even though a traitor, as an Uchiha, he was still regarded with only respect. And many would wish to pay their condolences to the Hokage-to-be and the village's most promising Kunoichi.

Sakura stared at the casket, and tried her hardest _not _to imagine Sasuke's lifeless body within it. She only wanted to look at the beautiful outside, carved out of polished mahogany, with flowers spilling over the top. She only wanted to see the good, and tried desperately to ignore the bad. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Naruto, who stood one one side of her with Hinata at his other, and he was surprisingly dry-eyed. They held nothing but well-kept sorrow, and his lips were turned up in a slight, solemn smile. After all, he was finally putting his best friend, his brother – to rest.

She watched as they lowered the casket into the ground, and remained until after the last of the dirt had been piled over it, until after everyone else had gone. Even then she stood, still, frozen, unsure of what she should do. Go home? No, she did not want to go to that empty, forsaken place. To work? No, she was sick and tired of being looked at like someone on the verge of psychosis. To her friends? No, she did not want to wallow with them in misery.

Her feet moved without her consent. She walked, and she knew where it was she was walking to. _No. _She told herself, begging her legs to stop moving. _No, don't. Don't do this. You're not a masochist. Stop. Not here. I never want to see this place again. _The Uchiha Complex.

She had walked the path to his house so many times, she would have been able to find it blindfolded. And despite her desperately protesting mind, when she arrived at the front door, she walked right through it, pausing momentarily as if to ask permission to enter first. And she walked straight to his empty bedroom, that still carried his clean, boyish scent, that was in perfect order even though not a thing had been touch since he had left it. And she lifted the face-down picture of team seven, setting it upright, and looked into his face.

And then came the truth – impaled through her heart, drove into her mind, and swelling until it was the only thing left.

_Sasuke is gone. _

_Sasuke is dead. _

At last came the tears. Hot and throbbing, they pulsed down her cheeks as she lost herself to the uncontrollable sobs, her knees buckling under her weight as she fell to the ground on his bedroom floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if they were the only thing that was keeping her in one piece, and cried. And she cried to release all of the anguish that engulfed her. And she cried so she could finally say goodbye. And she cried long after it became painful, and her throat was sore and hoarse and her eyes stung and burned.

And she did not know how long she had been crying, or care, until a meek and timid call came from the doorway. "Sakura-san?" She would recognize the sound of Lee's voice anywhere. She heard his footsteps, approaching hesitantly. He knelt at her side, and she kept herself turned away from him. "Sakura-san, are you going to be alright?" He asked. What a stupid question. "We've been looking everywhere for you. Everyone was awfully worried."

She threw herself into him, clinging to his lean figure in desperate search of comfort. He held her gently, but firmly and passionately. "I'll take care of you from now on." He said. "I promise."

And as Sasuke watched the scene unfold before him, he went stiff. He hated himself for ever wishing that she would grieve for him, because seeing how she tore herself apart, if he weren't already dead, it would have killed him. Horror washed over him, as he watched her fall willingly into the arms of _another man. _Another man who was now free to interfere, because he could do nothing about it. Another man who quite clearly had intentions of stealing her away.

"No..." He muttered, shaking his head back and forth. "NO! SHE'S MINE, GODDAMIT! NO!" He banged his fist on the nothingness.

Uchiha Mikoto pinched her eyes shut, pursed her lips together, and turned her head away because she could not bear to watch any longer.

* * *

Pheew. This chapter was just chalk full of angst. Don't worry. I think this story was supposed to be a comedy, but it's not quite turning out that way, is it? Oh well. It would be sacrilege if Sakura walked around making jokes if Sasuke did die. I'm just trying to be a bit realistic. Comedy will come later. After the emo-angstyness part.

Um, for the love of all things holy REVIEW!!!!! Please, I'm like, down on my knees here. Those people who know me, well, you know how I get.

And I'd like to apologize for taking so long to update. Seeing as Y o h o is my primary focus, I'm sure you'll understand. Don't worry, I intend to update Jan Ken Pon sometime soon, too. (For those of you who read either of those...)


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